Vinegar and Wine
by Harlin
Summary: Slight AU, Danny has been having thoughts about a girl he hasn’t spoken to since he was seven. When he finds her missing, he'll uncover a new side to the ghost zone and a plot that's been spinning for a long time. Contains Romance in later chapters.
1. Darling Baby Face

_Danny has been having premonitions lately, about a girl he hasn't spoken to since he was seven, since she moved. It comes to the point where Danny feels like he's going to go insane. So Danny makes an effort to track her down. Unfortunate for him, he soon finds out there's more to the ghost realm than he thinks when he learns Sam disappeared seven years ago, into a car that went behind a tree, but didn't reach the other end._

**Note:** With this story I will not be explaining characters we should already know or talk about past situations as when Danny Fenton got his ghost powers. I plan for this to be in depth so I need to take trivial things out to make sure I stay interested. If you are confused, watch the show or read another fan fiction first that should set up the main plot of the show for you.

**Vinegar and Wine**

**Chapter One**

**Darling Baby Face**

Was there ever such a thing as a 'normal girl'? If we are all different then is there really a normal? Sometimes young Vinegar would wonder these questions as she walked down the hallways of her high school, but she never dared voice them. She just shrunk into an unoriginal group that was a crowd, not choosing to stick out, not choosing whether to experiment by picking out another kind of lunch meat for her sandwiches. Vinegar was a simple girl, never wearing different clothes, hardly speaking and most of all, Vinegar never fought for anything she truly wanted.

Though Vinegar was a weird name for a young girl, especially a name that had no meaning or family joke/secret behind it, it never got more than a flicker of an eyelash. Her Dad, a bookshop owner with weak arms, big thick rimmed glasses and a rather large nose that reminded people of a parrot's beck, often called her Vinnie, which Vinegar never really commented over. Her mother, the source behind Vinegar's name, one day packed her bags and left for the nearest airport. Vinegar's dad, being a spineless man, went on with life as it was. He did however shove the remainder of her belongings in the wood chipper with a broad smile on his face.

Then one day, when she was only young, her Dad just pulled out his bags and left also. Before Vinegar knew it, she was at a new school, being called a new name, one she had never been too accustomed to. It seemed that straight away everyone was her friend while a certain group was telling her how to act and how to dress. She didn't care all too much. She was introduced to new parents as well, her mother seemed kind but always hanging near her but her father was big and muscular, nothing at all like the previous big nosed man that was her father. It never crossed her that it was strange for someone to just suddenly receive a new family and never asked questions.

Vinegar was never sat down and told how things were meant to be. Se never got told right from wrong, never truly fought for anything she wanted, never became something she was proud of. She was steered by the many faces and pushes she was faced in. Unfortunate for her, slowly she grew into her name, she became just like Vinegar, looking innocent enough but once tasted, the bitterness is immediately detected.

She may have been known now as Honey, but she was Vinegar all the way through.

-x-x-x-x-x-

'_Bottle of wine, _

_Fruit from the vine,_

_Why won't you let me get sober?'_

She sung this verse over and over again, finding it impossible to remember any of the other words. She clutched her ears tightly; tears spilling out of her eyes, making her short raven hair cling to her face. She sobbed as she sung, trying desperately to turn a deaf ear to the sound of the fight downstairs. Unfortunately for her, the sound found its way through her fingers and into her ears.

Early 1900's music played below as screams and shouts from two men below echoed through the almost empty house. Their shouts were raging, so much that it was hard to understand what they were arguing about. The black haired youth didn't know what they were fighting about, having no more clue than the older small group of woman and men beside her, staring at the ground with her lips pressed together, remaining silent, knowing as much as she did that whatever was upsetting their master would be taken out on them.

'_Bottle of wine, _

_Fruit from the vine,_

_Why won't you let me get sober?'_

The small group of adults ignored the youths crying. Where they were, it was one for ones self. Suddenly a loud crash was heard from down stairs and the yelling stopped. Slowing the music kept playing, still an eerie silence filled the house. The group of adults froze, in fear and wonder, while the girl tried not to notice anything had changed. Slowly the creaking sound of someone slowly making their way up the stairs was heard, coming straight towards them. The adults stood their ground while the young girl continued to sob and sing the only three lines she knew.

'_Bottle of wine,_

_Fruit from the vine,_

_Why won't you let me get _

_So-ber?'_


	2. How I Barely Know You

**Vinegar and Wine**

**Chapter Two**

**How I Barely Know You**

"It's been a hard year," said a middle aged man with messy brown hair, wearing a business type look about him, "but I think I've made my peace with those that I've hurt."

A gentle clap came from the circle around him. He gave them all a small smile and took his seat back inside the circle. A group of adults, mostly men, sat on chairs in a circle in what looked like a studio for ballet. Grand windows were to one wall, letting the bright light pour into the room while the wall next to it was just a large grand mirror. As the man took his seat, the others gazed around expectantly, wondering who would stand and tell their story next. Silence filled the group for a few minutes until a well-dressed man with blonde hair stood and nodded at the group.

"Hello," he said nervously, fiddling with the hem of his green sweater, "my name is Jeremy Manson."

"Hello Jeremy," an echo sounded from the group. Jeremy nodded his head and played with the hem of his sweater for a little longer before sighing and pulling his hands away from the green wool and clasped them together.

"It's been…" he paused and laughed slightly, shaking his head, a fake grin plastered on his mouth and stayed silent for a moment until his grin dropped. "It's been a few years, seven years, six months, two weeks, four days and I suppose sixteen hours when we were delivered the news."

He stopped and sniffed, wiping his arm across his nose quickly before continuing, "At first, my wife and I thought it was a joke. She literally threw herself at the policeman and bent his nose in with her fist. But when he showed us her necklace and the ribbon from her cape, we knew it was true."

He stopped again and shuffled his feet, staring down at them, refusing to lift his gaze to the group. One man told him to carry on in a gentle tone but was given a dirty look from Jeremy. He cleared his throat and carried on, "She was taken from us, right in front of an innocent by standers nose. He didn't even try to stop them, though he said how she cried."

Tears were falling from Jeremy's face now and he wiped them away, "Two weeks later, they stopped looking. My wife told me, every time I walked through the door, coming home from work, that she had seen her in the street. I don't know whether I believed her out of hope or desperation but we reported it to the police each time. It even got to the stage where they begged us to stop calling."

Jeremy smiled at the thought, "It wasn't until my wife stopped what she thought was our daughter in the street that she realized she had gone off her nut."

"Today would have been her birthday," he said, more confidant too, "Her fifteenth. It only seemed like yesterday, I was bringing her to this very place for her weekly ballet lesson," he paused gazing over at the large mirror, picturing a young girl in a pale sky blue ballet uniform, trying to copy the teachers moves, her black hair pinned behind her head in a bun.

"I still remember her soft cheek, her tiny hands which use to hold mine, her darling baby face, the joy my wife and I felt when we first held her gently in our hands. Today, my darling Sam could have been a young woman. Yet she has left a hole in our hearts, a hole we have yet to fill."

-x-x-x-x-x-

A beautiful girl with pretty curly blonde hair and dark tanned skin was in Casper High's School Girl's bathroom, reapplying blusher to her face. She stared at her reflection for a moment, slowly pulling a blonde curl from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She was packing her make up away when the door to the bathroom slammed open and two girls rushed in, laughing and carrying on.

"Oh did you see how his face fell?" one gushed, standing in front of a mirror next to the blonde one, not taking any notice of her and applied lipstick to her thin lips, "what a dork. Did ya hear what Dash did to him?"

"Of course!" the second gossiped, "who didn't? What I want to know was how he got him all the way up on a goal post?!"

The two laughed for a moment and stopped shortly after, the first one carrying on putting lipstick on while the other flipped her cell phone open, her thumb working at rapid speed to type out a text message. After a moment of silence, the first one caught the blonde girl staring at her.

"I'm sorry, am I an art exhibition for you?" she sneered.

The blonde one just stared down at the basin, not replying. The second one realized something was going on and closed her phone with a small click. "Don't be rude Star!" she snapped, giving her friend a playful hit on the arm. Placing a hand on her hip and moving her jaw up and down, chewing on gum that wasn't there, she bluntly asked, "You're new?"

The blonde gave a polite nod, placing her make up away in her purse with a gentle snap. Star leaned against the kitchen sink, a small pout on her face while her friend studied the new girl up and down. Eventually her eyes fell onto her handbag. "Oh! Prada," she complimented, giving the new girl a polite smile.

"Paullina," she introduced, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. The new girl smiled and accepted her hand, giving her hand a small shake.

"I'm Honey."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Dude I'm telling you that was totally wack!" Tucker Foley, resident geek of Casper High exclaimed into the receiver of his phone. He paused, listening to the other one on the line, pushing his glasses further up his nose as he listened. "Whatever your argument is, I could care less. Look, I'm meeting Danny now outside. Speak to you later?"

He paused once again; stepping out of the way so a girl could walk passed him, down the hallway and then out to go home. "I know he's been weird lately. I'm hoping he's going to open up to me." Pausing once again and resting his back against a locker, he laugh yelled into the receiver, "well you're not making life easier for him!"

While Tucker listened to his mates reply, he didn't notice local teacher, Mr. Lancer creep up beside him. He stood perfectly still as Tucker said a few 'yes's' and then said good-bye, hanging up the phone. "I certainly hope that was an important call to your mother Mr. Foley. No other reason would stop me from taking your cell phone off of you," Mr. Lancer warned.

Tucker spun around, trying to hide his surprise and his phone. "Oh course sir! I know the rules!" Mr. Lancer gave a small grunt in return, spinning on his heals and walking back to class.


	3. Why’d You Let Me Go?

**Vinegar and Wine**

**Chapter Three**

**Why'd You Let Me Go?**

Sitting on a park bench in the middle of Amity's local park, Danny Fenton fiddled with the strap of his backpack, his eyes downcast as his hair hung limply in front of his forehead. His best friend Tucker Foley was doing the same, only staring down at the cell phone in his hand, his eyes every so often glancing up to Danny, to see if his friend was about to talk or anything before his eyes returned to stare down at his hands. After an extended amount of time Danny finally let out a drawled out sigh.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he stated, before pausing again, his eyes dropping to the pavement.

Tucker waited for a moment, giving Danny a chance to reply. When he realized Danny had fallen silent again, he said, "And…"

Danny cast him an unreadable expression before growling and carrying on. "You remember that Sam girl we use to hang out with?"

Tucker gave him an odd look before realization dawned over him, "What, that dark haired girl we hanged out with when we were seven?"

Danny gave a small nod, his eyes not lifting from the ground. Tucker gave him a sideways look before asking, "what about her?"

Danny just smiled and shook his head. "Nothing," he said, picking up his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder, "nothing at all." With that, Danny walked away with a brisk step, purposely so Tucker could not catch up to him. Tucker just shook his head in confusion. Maybe Danny had a screw lose? Tucker shuddered at the thought. His friend was certainly acting that way, yet Tucker thought he had more sense. But just maybe, all this ghost fighting was getting to him. Either that or something was seriously up. But what could be on Danny's mind that linked to that girl named Sam?

She had moved away almost eight years ago and they had both moved on.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Star snorted as she watched local geek Danny Fenton walk away, stirring the straw of her milkshake slightly. "What a loser," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes dramatically as she turned back to Paullina, leaning against a playground slide. "You're telling me," Paullina said, "he could've been kinda cute though, in a lost puppy kind of sense."

Star laughed at her friend, glancing over briefly at Honey who was taking a sip of her own milkshake. "What about that Tucker guy? Imagine getting cozy with him!" Star exclaimed. Both girls shrieked out an 'ew!' as Honey almost choked on her milkshake.

"What about you Honey? Meet any cute guys since your first day of Casper high?" Star asked, raising an eyebrow in the girl's direction. Honey merely shook her head and pointed in the direction Danny had left him. "I do believe I know him from somewhere. I just don't know where…" Honey pondered.

Paullina and Star exchanged looks before Paullina spoke up, "you're friends with us now. You don't even need to concern yourself with Fentoad." Honey just gave her a polite smile.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Danny sat on his bed, staring out the window, his homework rested on his lap. Lately, he had been having weird thoughts about his childhood friend. It confused him beyond belief. He hadn't thought about her in so long. Not since she moved. He guessed these thoughts started a few weeks ago, when he spotted Mrs. Manson on the street. At least he thought is was Mrs. Manson.

Age had not been kind to her. Even though she still contained her elegant air about her, Danny couldn't help but notice the dark bags under her eyes, her hollow cheeks or the way her hair seemed elegant, yet frizzed from stress. Still, as far as Danny was concerned, it was definitely her.

What they were doing back in Amity mystified him. When he had heard of the move, it had all seemed such a great opportunity, considering it had been so sudden. He didn't even really get to say goodbye. Letting off yet another sigh, he placed his homework aside and made his way downstairs to see what diner would be.

As he walked downstairs, he could hear the laughter erupting from his family in the living room. Curious as to what was going on, he stepped into the living room to see his family crowded around a TV, a large cardboard box filled with home made videos sat on the floor. On the TV, conveniently enough, was a home video of him and Sam.

It was in Primary school at show and tell, when Danny had just begun his guitar lessons and learned his first song. He was showing it off to the class and just because Sam had seemed to eager, he had let her sung it. He smiled slightly as he listened to the out of time music and wrong notes.

"_Bottle of Wine…"_

-x-x-x-x-x-

"…_Fruit from the vine," _a young dark haired girl sang, clutching her knees close to her chest as she watched the thick smoke blow passed her window. She leaned her head against the cool glass as she sang quietly to herself. Downstairs, she could hear her master yelling at someone or something again. The man had no idea how to control his temper. She had learned to ignore it long ago.

Fingering the black metal cuff around her ankle, she sang quietly, _"Why won't you let me get sober?"_


End file.
